Entree NWA: Cheesecake Etc.

BENTONVILLE — Cheesecake Etc., has not been open long, but the modest café has earned a cadre of devotees. In Bentonville, where so many great restaurants are opening, especially on the charming downtown square – what is the attraction to this café yards off the Interstate and attached to a gas station?

A friend and I went to find out. We left with a real appreciation for the cheesecake, but we were mystified by the rest of it. Our server was unhelpful – though we found other two other employees, including the owner, to be friendly and warm – and the food that wasn’t cheesecake was mediocre. To be fair, Cheesecake Etc. is a modest café that doesn’t pretend to be more, but even modest cafes can do better in terms of service and quality of food.

Cheesecake Etc. starts you off with chips and salsa, which I always welcome. But it seemed strange in a place that looked as Latin as my last name. I give it credit for cleanliness, but Cheesecake Etc. has an atmosphere that is more cafeteria than bodega. Nevertheless, for the sake of continuity in these reviews, I gorged myself on the chips and salsa. Well, I tried. The salsa consisted mostly of large chunks of tomato and tasted like it.

Our server handed us menus and then hovered like a predator drone. She fired missiles from her eyeballs when we tried to have a conversation, and even when we asked her questions about the menu. My friend Laura suggested she check on a different table, the server ignored her. Instead, she loomed nearby, glowering. After a few minutes, we realized we had to stop enjoying ourselves, shut our mouths, and concentrated on the menu to make her go away.

The appetizers are a motley bunch. Spinach and artichoke dip and guacamole dip are the health options. Most of the rest comes fresh from the fryer. You get can get fried mushrooms, fried pickles, mozzarella sticks, onion rings, breaded veggie sticks and cheese fries.

I noticed some interesting salads, such as the “beefy salad” and “curry chicken.” The former had me envisioning a great bowl of lettuce-shaped beef, topped with beef salad gravy dressing. I wanted it.

“We don’t have it,” the waitress said. I took a moment to grieve. “OK, what about the curry chicken?” I asked. “We don’t have it,” she said. I was dumbfounded.  I needed to find a way to bide more time. Plus, I couldn’t take notes with her scrutinizing us from above like a government spy plane. I asked for a takeout menu. She skulked off and skulked back with the menus.

We looked. Laura noticed that they were different. The waitress told us that the take-out menu was “new.”

Laura and I looked at each other. Even in a cafeteria attached to a gas station, you expect to get a menu that is current with the food being offered, right? We told her we would need more time. Laura’s next words: “Oh my god.” My next words: “Oh my god.”

The new menu offered “specialties,” such as salmon tacos, a shrimp basket and chicken tenders. They offer a hot dog and a buffalo wrap under the portion titled “Sandwiches,” and also a Ruben (that’s how they spelled it); the charming “Somethin’ Somethin’ on a bagel,” which only means you can order any bagel sandwich you want; and standard fare such as the grilled cheese and club. The most intriguing sandwich options were the cranberry pecan chicken salad and the curried chicken sandwich. Everything was reasonably priced. Appetizers were no more than $6. Entrees topped out at $9.

The sole salad of interest was the grilled chicken cranapple that includes sliced apples, dried cranberries and gorgonzola cheese.

We decided to get fried pickles and the loaded cheese fries for appetizers. For entrees, I ordered the salmon tacos. Laura asked for the cranapple salad. The waitress left and quickly returned to report that there was no Gorgonzola cheese for the salad. Nor was there any blue cheese. So, after inquiring about three salads, we had managed to find none that were available. We gave up on the salads. Laura decided to get the Cranberry Pecan Chicken Salad sandwich. Success!

Our appetizers came. I began to pick the fries off the serving dish. They were good enough. Loaded with cheese and bacon bits. The fried pickles were good too, but a bit heavy on the breading. Laura realized we had no plates. She asked the waitress, who was conveniently close at hand. She gave Laura a quizzical look and said, after a long pause, “OK.”

I’ve never felt so uppity.

But then we had to ask a second time when the plates didn’t come. And we had to ask for silverware. Then I had to ask for ketchup for the fries. And so on.

Our entrees finally arrived. Laura enjoyed the cranberry pecan chicken salad sandwich. “It seems very homemade,” she said. But she was perplexed that the bread wasn’t toasted. I took a look. Sure enough, it looked like the slices came right out of the Wonder Bread bag.

The salmon in my tacos, meanwhile, seemed like it came out of a bag, too. A frozen one. They were hard little medallions that were fried. The tortilla was flour. All the ingredients tasted processed and bland. I didn’t bother finishing it. I gave one to Laura. She didn’t finish hers, either.

I did enjoy, however, the potato salad I got on the side. I asked the waitress if it was homemade. She did not know. Soon after, she disappeared. I had never been so glad to be helpless in a restaurant.

We turned to the cheesecake counter with more than the usual longing in our eyes. We needed something transcendent to save this lunch. If our waitress had been a predator drone, the woman behind the counter was a dove. She smiled! She explained the offerings, because she actually knew what the place served! We saw strawberry lemon cheesecake, raspberry white chocolate, traditional cheesecake, chocolate cheesecake and orange crème cheesecake. The list went on. Not only could you get a slice, you could get a serving in a jar to take home!

Finally, I got an inkling of this place’s popularity. We decided to split a strawberry lemon slice. I’m glad we did, because the “slice” was the size of my face. We tore it apart like face-eating zombies.

It was wonderfully but not overly lemony, said Laura, making for a perfect combination with the strawberries. When paying our bill, we learned from the another warm and kind person, the owner, that her mom made all the cheesecake from scratch, which explained its freshness and flavor. She even offered me a refill of my diet Pepsi in a to-go cup for the ride home. In the end, I left with a smile on my face.

It wasn’t exactly redemption, but the cheesecake was certainly worth the buzz I’ve heard about Cheesecake Etc. The “Etc.” part, however, is just tagged on. And it shows.